


After You (I Follow)

by corriander



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fix-It of Sorts, Gen, M/M, Mentions of Afterlife, Mentions of Yagami Family, Slight Canon Divergence, Slight OOC L, Soft romance?, Unresolved Emotional Tension, canon compliant mostly, light is kira
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:34:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26045854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corriander/pseuds/corriander
Summary: Coda drabble for Light, after L's death. Snapshots of what could have been. Light sees and hears things he wishes he didn't. Life keeps moving.
Relationships: L/Yagami Light
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





	After You (I Follow)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short coda take of mine in which I imagine L trailing around behind Light after his death as a ghost. Canon divergence to an extent, I needed a bit of a fix it because I don't want Light to go to Nu alone, god help me.  
> Mentions of the Yagami family, and a whole bunch of "what ifs".  
> This is mostly just small snapshots and drabbles of moments in between.

“Your father hasn’t come to see you in a while, Light,” L says, chewing at his thumb as he stands over Light’s desk. 

Light grits his teeth and nods. He’s aware of this, he’s been aware of it ever since the day L died and his spirit floated out of his body and attached itself to Light’s back. His father did the same at first, he supposes it’s only natural to feel responsible for what happens to your son after death. 

But that changed quickly. Light’s almost thankful for it. 

L hums, continuing to poke around the apartment with a familiarity that he has no right to. Light had purchased it years after L had passed away, somehow it feels more homely than anywhere he’s lived before. Even with the remnants of a ghost in it. 

“Do you ever miss me?” L asks, even more abrupt in death than he was in life. Light’s used to it by now. 

“No.” 

It’s not a lie, but it’s not the truth either. 

* * *

It’s Near. It’s always fucking Near. Light repeats this aloud to L, who is seemingly now on a neutral side since Light’s the only contact he has left with the living. Ryuk doesn’t count. 

Light picks up one of Misa’s stuffed dolls and slams it at the wall, watching the buttons pop off in the impact. “I’m going to tear that stupid kid of yours apart, L,” Light seethes, clenching his fists. 

L, suddenly much more compliant in the afterlife, opens his mouth and says “I think you’re going to bring on a stroke if you don’t calm down. I’ve heard those things are painful.” 

Light whips his head around to glare, “you think I give a shit about that when fucking Near is about to ruin everything?” He rubs at his nose bridge with his hands, trying to ease off a migraine, “Didn’t you raise him or whatever?” 

L shakes his head, “No, he was modeled after me. I’ve never actually met him or any of the others if that’s what you’re asking.” 

Light sighs, he doesn’t know why he even bothers. He should go back to pretending L doesn’t exist, which is mostly true anyway. “You’re useless to me,” he says, looking at L’s glassy eyes. 

“I’m dead and useless, how much worse can it get for me?” 

Light doesn’t bother dignifying that with an answer. 

* * *

It’s 3 am and Light can’t sleep. 

He’s lying in bed with the ceiling fan whirling above him, the curtains blowing from the breeze. Tokyo in summer is hot and sticky, and Light can feel sweat beneath his sheets from where he’s been tossing and turning. He grits his teeth and pushes his pride down his throat. 

“L, are you still here?” 

It’s silent for a moment, and for a second Light wonders whether L has disappeared into the night to stalk the old life he used to have. L’s not sentimental though, he’s sure of it. 

Finally, it comes, “I don’t think I’m going anywhere else.” 

“Oh.” 

L sighs, something which he seems to be doing around Light more often these days. Even in the dark of the night, Light can make out the hunched shoulders of L’s form. “What did you want, Light?” 

Light pauses, he feels stupid talking to dead things in the early hours of the morning. It’s not something he wants to make a habit of, but times are desperate and Ryuk has long outgrown his entertainment value. L’s face is much easier to stomach than the bloated skin of Ryuk’s. 

“What’s it like being dead?” 

Light doesn’t actually expect a real answer, he’s grasping at straws here. 

L quirks an eyebrow at him, Light can hear it in his voice, “Odd, I suppose. Considering I’m living vicariously through the man who murdered me,” he pauses, and Light’s heart sits heavy in his throat, “it’s not what I expected,” L finally finishes. 

Light breathes in, “do you ever regret it?” 

“Regret what?” 

Light swallows, “joining the Kira case. Meeting me, I mean. Do you ever wish you never came to Japan to find me?” 

There’s a moment of silence, and then “no, I’ll never regret it. Where I am now is where I was always meant to be. I can’t change fate, and neither can you as Kira.” 

“Don’t say that.” 

“Say what?” 

“That this is where you were meant to be. You were meant to value your own life, not throw it away.” 

“But I’m here with you, and I’m... content for once, Light. Tell me, do you ever regret finding the Death Note? Becoming Kira?” 

Light breathes out, something warm building in the pits of his guts. He smiles, “not in the slightest. I’ll win, L. I will,” he grips at the bedsheets beneath him, scrunching the fabric in his palms, “when I’ve won, I want you to be a part of my new world. I’ll make a place for you there, right with me like you are now.” 

L laughs, something ugly and raw choking its way out his throat. “You really believe that, don’t you?” 

Light frowns, “I beat you, didn’t I? And I’ll do the same to the rest of them.” 

L takes a step towards Light’s bed, his face becoming visible as he moves directly into the moonlight from the window. Light marvels at his face, something he can openly stare at now that it’s just them and no one from the fucking task force. He bites at his lip and says, “I’ll make a place for us. I’ll carve it myself if I have to.” 

L’s smiling at him, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Something about his expression makes Light feel cold in his stomach. L takes a seat at the end of the bed next to Light’s feet, pale hands blending into the whiteness of the bedsheet. His cranes his neck back to look at Light, “It makes me sad, knowing that you could have become something so truly astounding. That’s the worst thing about being dead, hindsight _hurts_.” 

Light meets L’s gaze, confidence burning its way up his lungs, “I’ve already become all that, plus more. You’ll see, when Kira finally spreads his wings.” 

L sighs, and he looks sad again. Light wants to wrap his arms around him, he would if he could, but L’s phantom form doesn’t allow for any physical contact. He opts for sitting up and shuffling closer to L instead. 

L’s voice is quiet when he finally speaks, “I think part of me wants to believe that. I’ve grown quite fond of you over the years, you know,” he pauses, reaching a hand out to hover over Light’s own, “a part of me wants to believe that you’ll get your happy ending, Light.” 

* * *

In the end, it’s Near. Light knows this as he runs from the warehouse with bullets riddled through his body. His lungs hurt. He thinks of his father, the expression on his face when he first visited Light in the afterlife. This is how he must have felt when he finally confirmed that his son was Kira. It must have hurt more than this, if Soichiro’s expression gave any indication. 

Light reaches an abandoned building, throwing himself at the half-open door. He stumbles over to the staircase and lays down. Breathing is painful, he can feel blood and mucus rattling in the back of his throat. It was never meant to be like this. It’s not the way gods die. 

Light stares up at the ceiling, wondering where this all went wrong. He knows precisely where, but admitting it would hurt more than dying like this.

A shadow falls over him, and then, “Oh, _Light,”_ L’s voice comes from the left of his vision. Blood clouds his sight so all he can make out is the vague shape of L’s face crouched down next to him. He reaches up, using his good arm to grasp around blindly. 

L must move closer because Light feels a coldness pass over his hand, he must be trying to hold Light’s hand. The absurdity of the situation makes Light want to laugh. He can’t though, it hurts to breathe. 

“I wanted-” Light coughs, his words coming out wet and sticky, “I wanted to make a place for you.” 

“I know,” L replies, his hands soothing cold phantom traces over Light’s hair. He can almost feel the touch, and he wants to be able to so badly. L’s fingers are pressing gently around his scalp, easing the pain as he feels himself growing weaker. 

Light grits his teeth, “I...”, he swallows, “I lost.” He wants to scream but he can barely keep his eyes open. More blood is pooling in the back of his throat and each breath of air he takes is beginning to sound more strained. 

L speaks quietly, “Kira lost. But I think. I think there might be a place for us. You and me.” 

_Just us and no one else,_ Light wants to believe it. He has to. 

“Really?” he forces his eyes open, watching L tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. 

“Really. I’ll be with you, Light. I won’t let you go,” L presses phantom hands to Light’s clammy forehead, “not this time.” 

Light smiles, half wincing with pain. He closes his eyes and lets L soothe his aching head. Cold fingers entangle one of his hands, but the sensation is becoming less and less. He hears L whisper an apology into the shell of his ear, but he doesn’t know why. L shouldn’t be apologizing for anything, not anymore. 

Light’s last breath forces its way out his lungs, and his vision fades to black. L’s hands are resting in his, held tight. Tonight, a god has died. 

* * *

_I no longer_ _exist._

Light can’t see anything in the darkness. He has memories, vague ones. His mother’s beaming face on Sayu’s 4th birthday, her panicked expression when he’d dropped the birthday cake before it got to the table. 

His father in a hospital bed with teary eyes and a gentle smile, the euphoria of knowing his son wasn’t a serial killer, only to have it taken away again. 

And L. L with his wide eyes and curious stare, glaring into him like he was about to start reaching into Light and pulling his organs out through his throat. He smelt like burnt sugar and strawberries. It wasn’t there after he died though, the presence wasn’t the same even if the shape was. 

“Light,” the voice is soft, timeless. 

_Burnt sugar_. 

He can taste it somewhere. 

Something grabs Light’s hand in the darkness. He can’t see, but he knows the thin boniness of the hand clasped around his. It’s warm. Warmer than it’s been in years. He doesn’t want to hope, he doesn’t deserve it. 

“Light?” 

He keeps his eyes firmly shut. He lets the hand tug him forward, but he doesn’t want to open his eyes to find out this is all just a dream. He keeps moving. Footsteps echoing into nothingness. 

The hand grips his tighter, and he can’t deny it any longer. It’s L, in his full physical form, it has to be. Light hasn’t touched him in years and a large part of him wants to fall to his knees and cry. He's missed the warmth of his skin, the bony knuckles and thin wrists.

“The place you always wanted for us, it’s here. I just wanted you to be ready.” 

Light bites his tongue, “I missed you. The whole time.” 

L grips his hand tighter, and it’s warm, “I know.” 

Light opens his eyes. 


End file.
